Fate Zero Alter
by xoCeri
Summary: "There are things which cannot be undone..." As the maiden smiled regrettably, orange eyes widened in fear. The knight who held his spears tightly lost grip on what he dearly cherished. A warm, viscous fluid drained down from a familiar individual— the marble ruins now tainted with a hero's despair and an unspoken farewell.
1. Summoning

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FATE/ZERO AND ITS CHARACTERS.**

* * *

Accenting the castle ruins, light began to emanate on the dull, grey ashes. Each line and twirl raced against each other to complete a whole loop, solidifying the magic circle. Cyan orbs illuminated the figure standing beside it. Her gentle eyes had been focused on the ongoing evocation, closing them as she concentrated on the chant, while her hands were cupped right on the level of her chest as if receiving heaven's blessing. As the clouds above were carried away by the wind, the ancient embers on the ground got blown afar as well. Replacing it was a pure light of bluish hue, and standing on it was a knight in a teal guise.

The female smiled at the sight. He was such a tall, handsome man. His roughly arranged hair was like a raven's feathers, and they shared the same droopy eyes which displayed a quiet grief. A hard cut mouth finished off his striking facial features, as his lean stature displayed the result of his battles and adventures. One of which was when he used an enchanted ship to fare a stormy sea to the Otherworld in search for the Loathly Lady due to a certain realization. In the legend, he discovered that she was a king's gravely ill daughter and needed to bring the dying lady a cup of healing water from the Plain of Wonder to save her. It was guarded by a jealous king and his army, but he pushed forward and defeated a total of 3,400 men single-handedly to obtain the cup. He succeeded his mission and returned to his homeland, boarded on the enchanted ship.

Of course, that was before The Pursuit. Having known his whole life until his death, the girl in front of him gestured a form of bow befitting aristocrats. She smiled more beautifully as their gaze met, her figure becoming visible under the moonlight. As a fair breeze brushed through the rubbles, her hair fluttered behind her. An unspoken acceptance imparted from both of them. With the night growing old, the valiant knight knelt down and bowed his head to greet his newly avowed master. His eyes were filled with passion to serve and fulfill his duties just as what he had done when he was still alive. The girl chuckled silently at the motion; she knew that what would follow was a vow of loyalty and commitment. She thought that knights had strange beliefs and norms, but now that she faced a genuine one, she couldn't help but wonder.

"Will you follow me even if doing so will go against your code, my knight?" She fiddled with her fingers and paced aimlessly in front of him.

"Master…" His voice was full of question and confusion. He couldn't respond immediately because neither of the answers would put his heart at ease. He wanted to serve his master, but his values were of equal importance to him.

The fair maiden stopped directly in front of him, straightening her posture. "Abandon yourself— submit only to me."

He was surprised by her words that he had to look at her. The girl who was supposedly his master demanded him a crucial reply. How could he not obey? His contract with the Grail was caused by his appeal to regain and defend his honor by fighting alongside his master; but at the same time, as a heroic spirit, how could he overlook his principles? He couldn't believe that he was already challenged right after his summoning, but as shock left his body, the kneeling knight creased his brows as a sign of resoluteness on the matter, finally understanding the situation. He chose this fate, so he might as well make his stand.

The Holy Grail War, a competition participated by seven masters and servants, guarantees no salvation to those who will fall. Out of all these strong desires and dreams, only a pair shall be granted their wishes. It was said that when least five Servants die in the war, activation of the said wish-granting device was possible, but even if he and his master would not have to fight all of the competitors, there'd still be a chance that they would fall— what more if he'd leave her by herself in the middle of a battle because the order given to him was against his code as a knight? At the very beginning, it was quite obvious what he had to do. Having called forth into the world by this benign soul meant that he must be already indebted to her for making half of his wish come true— to serve his master to the very end of his duration on Earth to express his devotion— and he must follow her. Those words of interrogation merely tested him, and now he understood what she meant by abandoning himself.

As their gaze bore on each other's soul, the mellow girl offered her right hand. "What say you?"

He took her hand, kissing it lightly. With a resolute dedication, he yielded. "I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, hereby pledge eternal loyalty to you, my Master. Every triumph I shall bring will be for your glory."

Another gust of wind passed through. "And so I, Ceri Agatha Blair-le Fay, accept you, the first spear of the knights of Fianna, and swear to be your rightful Master, never to betray your code of honor." As she tilted her head to one side, she beamed at the man.

Again, he was taken aback by her. He never felt so teased with words. What she declared was the complete opposite of what she contested him with. Truly, she was such a queer magus— creating a dilemma for her Servant to resolve in a nick of time. She had her green hair fluttering around, its ends reaching down to her shoulders with a silky and smooth finish. A couple of tiny golden flowers were entangled in between the strands, and a black lace holding most of her hair to one side was tied neatly. In between them was a decent distance, and right about that moment, the Servant noticed how pure her aura was. She could have been mistaken as a land goddess if it weren't for her modern day outfit.

The man was astounded by her beauty, but not only that— she may be too perfect for him. There had to be some flaws in their contract or in their participation in the Holy Grail War per se. Perhaps there might be strong magi she could not fight one on one, the mana she supplies would not be enough if she'd be wounded in some form, or unforeseen events which would put them in a disadvantage would take place. There was no conceivable condition as to where everything will fall into place in a way that fortune would favor them all the way to the completion of this war's ritual, of Heaven's Feel's sacrament. If this were to happen, the Servant would have to say it'll depend on luck, in which he lacked dearly.


	2. CH 1: Fate Alter

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FATE/ZERO AND ITS CHARACTERS.**

 ***Lyrics to** **D'Vêritû Agâge D'Bitu by Eluveitie had been used— again, I do not own anything.**

* * *

On the deck of the sinking ship, an ancient axe was held by a green-haired fairy. The head of a certain Lord El-Melloi Archibald tumbled down after a swift strike. His eyes, filled with shock and fear, shed tears as the head detached from the body. Blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering the viscous fluid everywhere. The female slightly turned her head to avert witnessing the disgusting sight. As the tension began to die down, her gaze fell on the forgotten carnage onboard; every corner was dreadfully painted with the same crimson beneath her feet. No matter where she looked, immobile figures greeted her with a terrified, dead stare. Miss Sophia-Ri rested stiffly by the spiral stairs on the right wing of the ship, her heart pierced with a cursed red spear which was said to never miss a target's heart when released. The remaining female sighed— she never wanted to end it that way.

"Master, we are nearing the harbor of Fuyuki." The Servant silently reminded his master, appearing beside her as he also watched at the horror in front of them.

She took a deep breath. "What's our distance from the dock?"

"The ship is approximately 250 meters from our destination."

Nodding once, she let go of the weapon she held for two minutes. Instead of a heavy thud, the axe dissipated as white glitters. Lancer's eyes trailed off to the open space as swirling sparks coming from the former blades on the corpses temporarily filled the darkness with soft light. The appearance of those olden weapons was possible through a type of magic called Projection. It materializes objects, in accordance to the caster's imagination, into the real world. However, since the crafting of the object, using no initial physical material but prana for the constitution and design, is imperfect and comes with inconsistencies, the created object fades slowly after a short period of time, which is why it is also called Gradation Air.

The girl was able to use it extensively even if it required a huge amount of her energy. Her remarkable prowess as a magus had saved her, sparing the disgraceful event of being the damsel in distress after an ambush by the would-have-been Master of the man beside her. Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, together with his fiancée, Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, after discovering Lancer's early summoning, decided to steal away her command seals to obtain the knight instead of summoning his own Servant. As the couple gave chase and cornered the young lady, inevitable incidents occurred. Innocent lives were sacrificed along the battle, and the burden of carrying the guilt was all on her. El-Melloi tricked her into involving the passengers and destroying the Kingston valve, making the whole affair solely her responsibility. Of course, she only realized that after the storm had ended— everyone died except for her who murdered them.

She walked towards the edge of the ship where land was visible to the eyes. As water rose ankle-high, the scent of blood and salt mixed together. The wind felt sharp; it slapped her face with sprinkles of dirt, as if mocking her for the misdeed. Dawn was about to break through the horizon, and they had little time to fix the problem. With a final sigh, she raised her right arm to release a magic circle large enough to engulf the vessel. It was a strenuous phase of the clean-up, but she had to do it. A hastened disintegration of matter to erase the evidence of an onslaught on civilians as the first step— the destruction of the carrier— was what she thought to be convenient for them. The Servant remained quiet, showing no signs of disagreement on his Master's decision.

An elaborate chanting of incantations followed through, but the water was steadily swallowing her up; it had reached her hips by the time she finished the chain of edict. Almost everything was submerged under the cold blue— the floor she'd been steadily standing on would sink completely in a few seconds. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the image of the crushed valve beneath her. _Eleven, ten, nine…_ Like a switch on a wall, she flipped the implanted mine she set for emergency purposes such as this. A red light flickered on and off under the water, waiting for a signal to be activated. When her mind received the cue, the fingers of her right hand, still raised above her, snapped for confirmation. _Six, five, four…_ Without delay, the Servant, who was anticipating an immediate command, threw his soaked body upwards with the aid of three small magic circles. The shimmering discs around him traced a specific path to reach his beloved Master. _Three, two, one…_

Within multiple layers of barriers and an Invisibility Spell surrounding the ship, no eyes ever saw the clear-out. From the unperturbed port, short rays of light peeked through the undistinguishable division of the sea and sky. A whole new day awaits Fuyuki, the warmth of the sun embracing the air. Sea gulls started their early agenda by hovering around a few fishermen by the shore, eager to steal some fish. By this time, a third of the glowing ball had risen. The early birds, mostly old townsfolk, went out of their houses and did their daily routine— watering the plants, sweeping off fallen leaves, or greeting the nearby neighbors with wide grins. On a land where human settlement was not a sin, life awakened one by one. The humble soil carried everything without complaint, knowing that its role was much more than that.

The Holy Grail War's battleground, Fuyuki City, merrily welcomed the arrival of two spears and the fairy resting on top of them.

* * *

 **FATE/ZERO ALTER**

"Lancer!" The golden-haired knight was confused. "What is the meaning of this?!"

She was intentionally dragged to a corner where a magic barrier obstructed her movement. It gleamed in gold as the King of Knights stepped on it, trapping her in its four corners. For a second, she found relief as the mad warrior had stopped attacking her. It seemed like its walls were casted with an Invisibility Spell, allowing her a moment's rest. After the monstrous assaults of Berserker, she was surprisingly assisted by Lancer. He called the attention of the new troubling enemy, declaring that the dark Servant cannot be allowed to duel with her because she was already preoccupied with him. Well, she did agree at the notion; having their battle interrupted by Rider and his Master, and then having Archer and Berserker intrude was rather rude. A one-on-one combat had already commenced, so isn't it appropriate to end it honorably by defeating the opposing party before entering another fight?

Having regained her stability and soundness in less than seven seconds, Saber repelled the force that strained her body. With one swing of the legendary sword, she slashed her way out of the barrier. Its shattered remains flew with the wind, breaking further into the tiniest particles before disappearing completely. She took a few steps forward, readying her sword, to assess the development of events. Rider's eyes were fixed on the clashing of weapons, perhaps caught in awe at the sideshow. When she turned to Irisviel, the same expression was painted on her face. Saber quickly followed the direction of her gaze, and there she saw someone who shouldn't be fighting directly with the dark Servant.

"Impossible…" Saber's eyes widened in astonishment, her mouth left hanging.

She couldn't believe her eyes— a fairy dancing in midair with such a heavy-looking axe in her hand was aiming for Berserker's stomach. The green-haired lady swung sideways, exerting a large amount of force in one strike. The Servant's armor clattered in resistance to the brute power, but nonetheless, he was able to stand firm on his ground. By the moment there appeared an opening for another assault, Lancer charged in, his red spear targeting the breastplate. However, having blessed by the protection of the fairies, Berserker managed to counter and change the flow. . _D Vêritû agâge d Bitu…_ He abruptly twisted his body, catching the spearman's weapon as he took a step back. Black mist enveloped its tip, slowly transforming into the mad Servant's possession. Time froze briefly, as if emphasizing how hopeless the situation was for everyone, and zoomed out on the main frame— until a short yellow spear veered around Berserker's head. _Dro, o Dêvo, tovo anextlo…_ As he dodged it expertly, he couldn't help but let go of the red spear to set a distance wide enough to retune their battle.

Berserker's unstoppable madness had been raging since he laid eyes upon Saber, but as Lancer took his step forward to face him and temporarily remove the golden-haired maiden from his sight, a different kind of fury fluxed. _Cue ir anextlo, nertos…_ A deafening howl was how he expressed his obvious irritation; he had no other choice but to annihilate those annoying pests once and for all. Rider's thick brows creased at the advancement of events; if things would come to worst, he had to aid them and eliminate Berserker. He crossed his arms and sighed audibly, but later on raised one brow and realized something amiss _._ _Cue ir nertos, Skyans…_ Irisviel had one of her fists on her chest, uncertain of what to do. Saber was about seven meters from where she stood, but the King of Knights was too engrossed on the ongoing fight. If she called out to her, it might get Berserker's attention. _Cue ir Skyans, Gothvos…_

"Your impetuousness shall be the cause of your fall, Berserker." Lancer pointed Gae Dearg and straightened his posture. All eyes save a pair shifted to him.

 _Cue is Gothvos…_

The dark Servant shook violently.

 _Gothvos ar vêriânjâ…_

A scope was focused on an individual.

 _Cue is Gothvos ar vêriânjâ…_

The spearman's smirk taunted the Servant in front of him. _…y Garo…_ Saber wondered where the boldness came from. In her short observation, it was clear how Berserker could defeat Lancer in terms of sheer strength and endurance, so why would he still duel head on with a beast which was too strong for him? _Cue ir Garo, grâto oljo Bewnans…_ She marched to the battlefield…

"Lancer, don't be stupid. That monster is beyond your—!" …but it was too late. _Cue in grâto oljo Bewnans…_ Sharp motions by both combatants were executed. In a split second, Berserker flung a piece of metal towards Lancer's head. The knight in teal effortlessly ducked as he readied his stance.

Everybody outside the battle area gasped in unison.

"Saber, get away from there!" She heard Irisviel's troubled voice.

"Garo Dêvo: Dêvo cue ollo Dade."

Like steam trapped in a pressure cooker, the confined air within the now visible magic circle escaped in fear. Surges of wind cut through anything it touched, including the sprinting Saber. She turned her heel after sensing something heavy coming her way, fleeing from the burst of a barrier-like field. She tumbled and rolled on her back as she was pushed back by the force, propping herself up on her knees when she regained balance. The sensation was very familiar. Its power was something she must have known as a Servant, and only a master of the wind would be able to execute such a large-scale outburst. Yes, she recognized that magecraft. There was no doubt in her mind— it was Invisible Air. Saber's eyes narrowed; she did not know of someone who could utilize it other than herself.

"Saber!" Irisviel's voice brought her back to reality. "Are you alright?"

The golden-haired Servant moved to her side right away. "Yes, I am fine. Thank you for the warning; if you hadn't called, I would have suffered greater damage." Irisviel seemed unscathed and doing good as Saber didn't bother to ask.

A resounding wail covered the entire warehouse. On the ground was Berserker, his hazy figure dissipating as a sign of defeat. His Master has ordered a retreat, and no matter how much he still wanted to fight, he did not have the capacity to do so; it would only result to further humiliation. Lancer was standing beside the spot where the mad Servant vanished from, and a difficult expression was formed on his face. However, what was more noticeable about him was his missing red spear.

"I see…" Rider commented on the outcome of the battle.

Saber and Irisviel were not able to watch the chain of attacks after the explosion of energy, but the King of Conquerors took cover from above and saw everything.

"Hahahaha!" His booming laughter was even more irritating to the ears as he landed on the ground accompanied by lightning and hefty pounds of the oxen for the second time. "I am impressed, Lancer. Your Master is a magnificent girl!"

Lancer eased up a bit, his usual composure returning as time ticked by. "I appreciate the flattery, King of Conquerors." He said. "My Master is my greatest pride." A shy smile made it through his lips.

Behind the spearman was a petite fairy who was playing with her fingers. Her hair had been in disarray due to the gusts of wind, though the black lace holding most of her hair on one side was still securely tied, which was what Lancer noticed when he glimpsed at her. If one would notice how timid-looking her stature was, it might have been impossible to believe that she contested against Berserker. Iskander gazed upon her satisfactorily; however, the two ladies were wary of the new individual. For a Master to appear out of the blue and daringly display her prowess at the very beginning of the Holy Grail War was a suicidal misstep in an open area where other Masters and Servants may observe. Saber could not find any benefit to her action, but that was not why she found herself perplexed at Lancer's Master— her intuition was telling her to discover that orange-eyed girl's identity.

"Duck!"

Three missiles from the Southern flank were fired.

* * *

 **EINZBERN CASTLE (II)**

After ignoring Saber, Kiritsugu inquired. "Iri, are you well-versed in the spells that erect barriers throughout this forest?"

"Yes, it's fine." Irisviel looked at the Servant beside her, concerned about the severed tendon. "But our real problem is the curse on Saber's hand. Eighteen hours have passed since the defeat of Lancer's Master, but her wound hasn't healed."

Her judgment continued. "Lancer must be still living; shouldn't we defeat him first so we can face Caster at full strength?"

To her dismay, he had a different plan for them. "That's unnecessary. You just have to use your knowledge of the area to confuse the enemy, keeping Saber away from him."

Saber's fist tightened in disgust as Irisviel questioned him. "You won't have her fight Caster?"

"Someone else will deal with him. Those who hunt Caster will actually make better targets." Stating those words as if it should be the rightful course of action, he elaborated on his plan. "I shall attack from the side and defeat them."

The King of Knights couldn't hold her tongue anymore. "Master, you… how cowardly will you be?! You mock the Heroic Spirits; why do you not allow me to fight? Do you mean to imply that you cannot trust me, your own Servant?!"

In exchange for her demand, the man in black who was leaning against the table said nothing. He'd sworn that he would never talk to Saber, and even in critical times he'd go with that promise. It was explained to her by Irisviel when they were still in the North. As Kiritsugu and Ilyasviel, his daughter, were out in the garden playing, the newly summoned knight found it strange— she thought that her Master was more of a cold-hearted person. She then jumped into a conclusion that perhaps she had highly offended him in a way and that he didn't prefer her as a girl, which Irisviel rectified. The thought that the people burdened her with such a heavy responsibility of a king angered Kiritsugu. What was more was that she passively accepted that fate and died without gaining salvation even after all her sacrifices for her nation. Having heard that, Saber sternly remarked that her Master has overstepped their boundaries. Irisviel agreed, stating afterwards how he'd resolve the matter. If their ideals and reasoning would clash, it would be better to avoid such arguments. There would be no interaction, thus, Emiya Kiritsugu and King Arthur will never meet; and that was the tragic relationship between the Master and his Servant.

"That is all." Adjourning the meeting, Kiritsugu closed his black case and exited the room.

…

A group of children following the Servant named Gilles de Rais walked over the prickly forest. Mist covered most of the spaces; but to a wandering murderer, tracing a path to where his desire nested was of no use. His diabolical scheme only required a clearing large enough to his liking. The sacrifices he had thoroughly prepared was set, the ground to where he would offer them was also in alignment to his taste, and after a few minutes of strolling in the woods, the virgin maiden he sought for was laying her eyes on him. He never felt so much bliss such as this— the reincarnation of Jeanne d'Arc certainly signified that god heard and granted the wish of a vile man like him. With the overflowing joy coming from the bottom of his heart, he turned to the speck where Jeanne was looking through.

"As promised last night, I, Gilles de Rais, have come for you." He bowed his head, one of his hands resting on his chest. "I wish to see you, Jeanne— my beautiful, holy virgin."

Standing amongst the children, he respectfully stated. "You may take your time if you wish. I have come prepared for a lengthy wait."

With a snap of a finger, the kids who were taken with him broke free from their trance. They all began to wonder how they ended up in that place, their eyes widened in confusion and distress. Gilles smiled at them. "Now, children, it's time to play tag." Heads turned about. "The rules are simple: you need only to stay away from me. If you can't…"

He grabbed a boy's head with one hand, squashing it without much effort. The skull broke into pieces, and the soft membrane protected by it scattered everywhere along with the red fluid flooding out. Frightened screams filled the area. "Now then… when I reach one hundred, the chase begins." Little feet scrambled in fear of the child-killing Servant.

"Well, Jeanne— how long do you think it will take me to catch them all?" Slithering tentacles sprouted from underneath him, all eager to move about and feel human flesh. The fish-eyed monster smiled menacingly, knowing how things would turn out by the time his holy virgin would appear.

…

"But I cannot let you scour on this land alone; it is—"

She raised her hand. "Remember what we came here for."

The knight hung his head in defeat. "Master…"

"Are you to disobey my will?" Silence reigned over. "Defeat Caster and return triumphantly."

He shot one last glance at his Master before disappearing in the darkness. "Please call my name when you feel yourself in harm's way."

Once left alone, she felt the natural coldness. It was still uncertain whether or not it came from the wind's caress, but her chest felt unusually grey. The stillness of the dead branches and their decaying leaves marked a heavy glare on her, giving off a fair warning of the evening's glow. From one side, a blade slashing foul meat could be heard; it was a helpless situation in which the lady hoped to mend. In time, help will come— two pairs of hands should be able to fix the problem; she only prayed that things would turn out better than the expected outcome. On the other hand, an alternative path leading to the Einzbern castle was made available with the help of a hastily constructed owl familiar. She crafted it by the time they entered the enemy territory so as to guide her there without wasting time. If fate would permit, her true purpose of having to face the infamous magus killer would be realized.

"Emiya Kiritsugu…" A spell had been whispered. Travelling on wind, the hesitant girl trailed through the uninviting barbs.

…

"Kirei-sama…" The woman Assassin revealed herself beside him. On her hand was a sparrow familiar. "We are being watched again."

The priest's son narrowed his eyes. "It's that woman…"

He recalled last night's later incident. Shortly after the explosion at the warehouse, that unidentified foreigner came out of the flames unscratched, preceding directly to Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel. But in spite of that remarkable escape, she could have avoided wasting energy if she'd given more thought about her careless action; Kiritsugu pursued and targeted her down due to the damage inflicted by her Servant on Saber, destroying the whole establishment to ensure her elimination. After all, it was the most efficient method to lift the curse. Kirei stood on a particular floor of the crumbling building, his intentions still unrevealed. He waited for something, but not something in particular, and his patience yielded rewardingly. Like a phoenix born from a form of destruction, that same girl delayed her doom once again. This paved way to meeting her face to face, examining her form and prowess. It took not more than three minutes to discern the vital fragments, but her whole being in general was somewhat peculiar. She left no impression at all; it was as if she had no aura or a concept of quality of self.

According to his mentor, it should have been Lord Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald who joined the Holy Grail War, but it turned out differently. This girl, approximately 17-19 years old, reigned over the Servant Lancer. She arrived here a bit earlier than Emiya Kiritsugu and Rider's Master, which raised Kirei's suspicion; she must have been most cautious at planning that even the Church and Tohsaka family's connection couldn't get a glimpse of. But what troubled the young man the most was her identity— he couldn't find her in any legal records or list of anything at all. With someone like her involved, his mortal enemy would come second when considering the level of threat that would impose on the victory of Tohsaka Tokiomi.

"Yes?" She probed.

He and Assassin had no time to be surprised; he had to run into someone eventually. Other Masters and Servants would flock in this place by the time news spread about Caster's current location. But as of that moment, only Lancer, Caster, Assassin, he and that fairy entered the Einzbern territory; Caster's Master seemed to be left behind in their lair as Kirei did not receive word about him.

"You do know that we are to assault only Caster, right?" She tilted her head. "If you do more than what is tasked, I'm afraid I have to make my own rules as well."

The unmoved man took a step forward. Five meters of space would suffice for him to silence her once and for all; his precious time was being wasted, and he couldn't afford to fail his reason for coming.

"Kotomine Kirei…" With a new tone, she cautioned him. "Don't even bother; the winds do not favor you. Listen to me and withdraw. You're nothing but a nuisance to everyone right now."

A clicking sound echoed.

He took another step forward.

…

"Iri, Maiya, this way." Kiritsugu urged them to go. This time was crucial as his alliance would only last for an hour.

His luck was terrible, but because of this strange Master, things twisted in ways he couldn't have thought to be possible. The revelation he received from the owl familiar assisted his escape, although it did not guarantee a safe one. It took an amount of time before it convinced him; the happening outside, however, proved it to be true. A few minutes passed by after he ordered Maiya to secure Irisviel; the two ladies were traveling in the direction opposite to the battling Servants. When he called his partner to use another route as he was informed of the danger, trouble had already reached them before he could even speak. A few of the starfish-like creatures consumed energy and were able to sustain their forms, roaming around the vicinity and eating away all life they touched. As Kiritsugu raced down to save the damsels in distress, he met Saber halfway through the bushy trails. They both dashed to their destination, exterminating the beasts and slashed a way through.

"How did you predict something like this, Kiritsugu? It's as if you had a glimpse of the future." His wife noted, painfully limping on one leg as Maiya supported half of her weight.

Only Saber came out unharmed. Irisviel and Maiya were injured on their legs, and Kiritsugu's side received damage as he shielded Irisviel from one persistent tentacle.

"I'll explain everything later." He quietly replied.

While the King of Knights paved a path for them, blinding headlights turned on and off as they reached an unfamiliar clearing. One giant cube was rooted on the dry soil, its coal black paint blending well with the shadows behind. Saber readied her invisible sword, unaware of the turn of events. Maiya and Irisviel tensed up as well, their brows creasing with sweat.

"You're late." A blonde man jumped out from the driver's seat.

Kiritsugu was his normal self, no hostility or resistance coming from him. This surprised the three women. "Kiritsugu?"

He caught something as he approached the vehicle. It gleamed a beautiful silver when he opened his hand.

"Hurry up and leave this place. Things will soon get out of hand." Now standing closely behind the magus killer, the unnamed man warned.

Kiritsugu tossed himself in the truck and ignited the engine. By then, Saber, Irisviel and Maiya understood what the blonde man's existence was for. They mounted the vehicle one by one after taking a look at him. Since the night ate away much of the sky, the first two noticed nothing unique about him.

"Spirit," He called upon Saber when she was reaching for the door handle at the back. "…your decision is far worse than what awaits in your return."

A pang of pain hit her chest. She found herself dumbfounded, staring at him as she knew what he meant.

The truck jolted in reverse, then turned left, heading out south. All the while when it maneuvered, Saber kept glaring at the man, but she couldn't describe him well as he wore an eye gear which covered mostly half of his face; and from head to toe, he wore the same black attire as Kiritsugu.

"Angra…" He mused to himself, watching his favorite truck disappear.

From above the castle, an unregistered aircraft exploded.

* * *

 **A/N: That is the first chapter! I hope you'll have the patience to bear with all the unexplained events. If you have questions, ask away! xoxo**


	3. CH 2: Reasons & Motives

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FATE/ZERO AND ITS CHARACTERS.**

* * *

 **ABANDONED BUILDING (III)**

" _You deliberately disobeyed me."_

That was the first and final statement he has heard since they reunited, and it fueled his guilt. The flesh wound all over her body did not affect her a bit as she was still able to give chase and silence the military men who survived the aircraft's crash. The leisurely slaughter was thanks to his assault on the flying vehicle which hovered dangerously over her; it took only three slashes to break it into pieces. His hesitation to follow Caster's trail was the fruit of him sensing her endangerment, and he was stoned on his feet until Saber urged him to protect his Master as she would do her best to eliminate their common enemy. He was quite unsettled but quickly decided on his next action. Thanking his fellow knight, he rushed to the side beyond the castle. There he saw her bloodied figure. He burrowed his brows in frustration; why didn't she ask for help when she obviously needed it?

Of course, as the night grew deeper, it would be proper to have things settled. Next to the clean-up of corpses, he failed to further sense Caster's lingering trail. The reason for their trespassing had been for naught, which was his fault for not following the single order to take down the target. He knew too well that she would be infuriated not just because he went against her will, but also for not being able to protect her entirely since that was what he foolishly prioritized over the order. When he finally turned to her, however, no sign of exasperation imparted her; instead, disappointment washed over her face. With the words said to him, she sighed exhaustingly and left the tumble-down place.

They temporarily took shelter in an abandoned establishment located a few miles from the Einzbern castle yet travelable by foot when one would come from the busy streets near the marketplace. Her lodging in Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel had been abolished by Emiya Kiritsugu, so she had limited choices as to where to go. Making her presence known to any more of the public domains would only invite old problems— the unaccounted events that did not concern the Holy Grail War were because of a deep-rooted affair back from her homeland— and she never wanted that. So in order to minimize the trouble, the Master and her Servant fled to this unfinished infrastructure. Its foundations were well-made; everything was already cemented and polished, and on of that, thick divisions per allotted space were refined. For a hastened search of resting place, it seemed perfect for the both of them.

He simply followed her in spirit form to ease up her pain; the injuries she received were not wholly deadly, but judging from the slashes and shots, her body had to be in agony. As she walked out of the forest, a prepared black Audi welcomed her. The engine was already turned on, so an associate must have foreseen the outcome and brought the vehicle beforehand. The door shut smoothly, and the engine hummed as she stepped up on the gas. His Master must have planned to arrive there in a short span of time since she drove quite fast, but he noticed that as minutes passed, her focus was beginning to dwindle. As the female driver also took note of that, she slowed down a bit.

Arriving in less than thirty minutes at the destination, it didn't matter where the car was parked— she was heaving heavily and pearls of sweat were formed on her face. She lost some blood out there, so it was natural to faint afterwards; but she didn't. Lightheadedly staggering on her feet, she searched for a specific quarter to heal herself. As a magus, the construction of a location for workshops and other magecraft activities required closed walls and a steady ground. Open spaces would let the energy escape, and proper concentration could not be attained if distracted by even a falling leaf. So as she found a suitable spot and tended to herself, the knight in teal stopped at what seemed to be the main entrance of the building. He stood there, still in spirit form, guarding the area for any low-key danger.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice how long he'd been idling, but the voice of his Master later called him back to reality. As he blinked once, he learned that she was directly on top of his spot, sitting on the horizontal post with her legs hanging. "You called me, Master?" As he appeared, he kneeled, his head bowed.

With her Servant in sight, she beckoned. "Come sit beside me."

He raised his head, observing her now serene expression and healed wounds.

"First of all, let me apologize…" She mouthed every word clearly when he complied. "I was so engrossed with my goals that I didn't consider your confusion and discomfort."

Surprised at what he has heard, his eyes were locked on the girl who had her eyes closed. She held her head up as if admiring the sky, captured by its mild form, but it seemed that she was not yet done talking. He remained silent while they sat beside each other.

"We really had no chance of talking after last night. Well, we could have eliminated Berserker right then and there— it was by my command that we prioritize him and Caster— but I didn't finish him off. I'm sorry for betraying your expectations."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Ceri-dono. I understand if you preferred it that way. It would have been easier for you t—"

Before he could finish his sentence, she intercepted him. "No, it's not that." She was slightly irritated as she opened her eyes and traced the constellations. "Don't you ever wonder about my motives, my reason for joining this war?"

His gaze trailed off to the same stars before ending up on his fists. "As a Master and participant of the Holy Grail War, I assumed that you wish to obtain the wish-granting tool." He paused. "As I have sworn on my honor to serve you and defeat our adversaries, wouldn't your intentions be the same as to the others who fight?"

Her face then expressed the same displeasure a few hours ago. She almost sighed. "No."

Questioning her was rather painful for him— a Servant should only obey and bring happiness to his Master; that was what he thought was right, yet the flow of conversation did not permit him to be at peace. Now that his discipline has been put to test, he could only hang his head. "Forgive me for supposing so…"

He thought that it would end the strain, but she didn't let go. "Am I such a distant character to you?"

There was no response.

By that time, she was also hanging her head. "When I asked you if you'd abandon yourself, you willingly said yes; when I told you to ignore your possible battles in exchange for Berserker and Caster's defeat, you didn't complain or showed a single sign of disagreement. I thought you understood, but now I'm feeling that you're not even concerned about anything but yourself fulfilling your frustrated duties that were deprived from you in your previous life."

Her quivering voice made him straighten his back and look intensely at her. "That's not true… My Master's joy and exalt come first before anything else…"

There was a long silence before she could reply. "You still refuse to ask. Tell me; how do you plan on making me happy if you haven't the slightest idea of what brings me sorrow?"

He was lost at words. If they were engaging in a battle, her last query surely would have paralyzed him, stopped his breathing without him realizing it. The wind blew softly at the moment, making the girl's hair flutter. As his handsome face tried to scrutinize her, he couldn't fathom the meaning of her message. It was difficult enough not to protect her when she was in danger, yet the absurd inquisition showered on him was more problematic. With no answer to be told, he turned away from her. She was right— he didn't understand what she wanted; the female mind was simply too much for him. It must have been ill luck to be paired to her.

The apparent cessation built an awkward tension, until the match was decided when she sighed loudly and leaned on his back. The Servant had forgotten how tiring it must be for her having to use much of her energy and losing a handful of blood. He didn't move, allowing her to rest herself for as long as she wanted. As he looked up at the sky again, the moon had moved at a new position. It forecasted the approximate time, and in about two to three hours, the golden sun would rise. The spearman counted his borrowed days; tonight marked his one week's worth of existence. The conflict has only begun, and he doubted that a resolve would come that easily. With his mission etched in his mind, he couldn't help but worry about both of their fate.

"You're such an obstinate yet dense guy…" She mumbled.

Looking over his shoulder, he found her enduring consciousness troubling. She hasn't had a decent sleep since yesterday; shouldn't she be utilizing her time wisely?

Right about when he was about to protest about it, she picked up her weight and propped herself up, giving her Servant the opportunity to turn to her. "Master, I think it is best if yo—"

Without warning, she leaned on his chest and pressed her lips against his.

 _Silence. Silence. Pain. Pain. Pain._

 _ **PAIN. PAIN. PAIN.**_

 _Fear. Darkness. Cold. Eyes. Fear._

 _Numb. Pain. Numb. Pain._

 _ **BLOOD. LIMBS. CUT. PAIN.**_

 _Darkness. Pain. Breath. Thread. Needles._

 _ **WAR. AXE. PAIN. HEADS. THIRST.**_

 _ **CHAINS. BLOOD. PAIN. LIFE.**_

 _Darkness. Silence. Numb. Eyes._

As those words flew in his head, figures and events flashed through his mind. One never lasted a second, but it was all recorded.

 _Flowers. Axe. Creek. Rainbow._

 _ **PAIN. PAIN. PAIN.**_

 _Sky. Eyes. Darkness. Nothing. Hare._

 _Pain. Needles. Light. Eyes._

 _Heart. Pain. Fear._

 _Thread. Needles. Darkness. Eyes. Blood._

 _ **PAIN. TEARS. FEAR. LIES. EMPTY.**_

The parting of warm breaths ended the cycle of misery. She steadied herself by placing her hand against the cold floor and the other on her neck. The sudden rush of recollection had a high toll, especially with an abrupt grounding. She struggled to get her breathing even, her heart pounding rapidly to compensate for the loss of energy. All the while, the man in front of her remained stiff. His heart was also pounding, but it was too loud that in spite of not hushing anything, it could still be heard. She couldn't reach his eyes as his hard-cut mouth already hinted how traumatizing it was to have her imprinted on his head. The deed was done, and all that was left was to wait.

She shook her head slightly to fight off the dizziness. She expected nothing from her folly; it was a silly attempt to breach the gap between them. She thought that with him, her burden would be relieved as someone would understand and share the load with her. However, at some point, certain things would be bound to go against her hands and trace a separate path, leading into something entirely uncontrollable; an example would be this confrontation. She merely wanted support and encouragement from her Servant— an intangible source of energy that could push her onward— which was only possible if he knew what she was going through and empathized with her.

When her breathing had settled, she found herself leaning against his chest. He was still unmoving, although it might be that he had also got a hold of his respiration as he also stopped heaving. The silence that followed with nothing but the whistles of the wind was what she feared. In reality, the girl wanted to create a connection that exceeded their contract. In that limited time span, she wished for more, for a friend she could call her own; as flashed in her memories, all her life had been nothing but pain and a lonesome existence. In him, she sought for security and warmth, a hand to hold if ever there would come a point where even her own shadow would betray her. If this childish plead would not be answered, then she'll have no other choice but to close her clouded eyes and drown in the obligations entrusted to her, to succumb upon the chains of fate.

Her disheartened eyes closed, but a pair of arms embraced her enervated body. "Ceri-dono…"

As he held her tighter, he rested his chin on her bowed head.

"Idiot…" It was all that she could manage to say. A genuine smile spread across her face.

* * *

 **TOHSAKA MANSION (IV)**

"Five hundred thousand yen will be my final price— leave or take."

His elegant stature never faltered. The master of the house, Tohsaka Tokiomi, took a sip of wine before giving his reply. "Very well; may the steep price recompense me with its worth."

The transaction was sealed. He took the cheque book from the low table and began inscribing the digits. The gleaming bag of red and blue jewels was remarkably pristine, most probably crafted for special purposes such as this.

The blonde man in front of him only played with his glass, making the wine twirl inside. His formal bearing was betrayed by his slack air; while one of his legs crossed rather improperly, his head cocked to one side. In the office, the atmosphere felt pretty dull.

"Tokiomi…?"

By the time he finished writing, his attention shifted back to the man in black. He wore this odd eye gear which covered most of his face, revealing only from the nostrils to his pale lips. "What is it?" He permitted further chatting, seeing nothing wrong with it.

There was no hesitation, but extreme caution was given when the blonde spoke. "Personally, I don't like the fact that you are participating in this war. You're not fit to fight here." He stopped the needless motion of swirling the liquor. "Your deceitful and tedious ways will be the cause of your demise; believe me when I tell you so."

"The plans I have set that you mock are exactly my means to survive and win." He criticized. "Your indecorous calculation will be proven wrong by the end of this month, I assure you."

A silent clash of mindsets ruled over; their stare-down contest was cold and adverse.

"Suit yourself." With a light thud of his foot on the carpeted floor, the dealer prepared himself to depart. He soundlessly put back the glass on the table. "You know, this will be our final dealing— I changed my mind. I'd just give the last batch of gems as a token of our short-term business dealing. Aoi would have financial difficulties arranging your funeral if you lose this much sum." He pointed at the table.

Tokiomi took the dark humor as a challenge. As he stood up to escort the merchant to the door, he chuckled lightly. "I appreciate your kindness and concern, but there is no need for that."

It was too vague— did he mean the payment for the delivered jewels or his death?

When they reached the short distance to the exit, Tokiomi halted and bid his farewell. The man on the other hand said something strange. "Then, until we meet again."

The way around was fairly easy to trace, but since he'd been more than familiar with the hallways of this manor, walking out was not a bit of a problem. Its rich maroon flooring, without dirt and soft to the soles of the feet, matched the simple olden wallpaper. Fine-looking paintings hung next to the warm light throughout the passageway, bringing into life the place itself. And not long after leaving the enclosed dwelling, the unnamed man advanced to the front garden of the Tohsaka household, where at the gate parked his matte black bike. Butterflies flew away from him while he casually walked across.

Kicking the stand, he roared the engine to life and sped down the road. Wearing of helmets were not strongly enforced in this country, so he didn't bother putting one on; he had eye protection already anyway. The surroundings turned into a blurry backdrop, house per house's design reduced to mere jumble of colors. He stepped on the gas more vigorously, but a second's worth of time expanded to ten when a golden boy appeared in his sight. His sick, smug look was provoking as usual, although the rider could not wish for anything else as their encounter was very satisfactory. The man clad in gold noticed right away that he was being stared at, and it irritated him. For a lowly human to gaze upon such godly beauty, who was he? The superior Servant glowered at him as he passed by, time elapsing back into its normal pace.

The peacefulness of the neighborhood returned as the man turned to a curb, but something was not quite right. Doesn't the Babylonian king always stay in his spirit form when roaming around town? He never liked insignificant peasants stirring commotion around him; their soiled hands and unworthy presence disgust him. Only those deserving were allowed to see his magnificence, his majesty; however, that man stared for so long as if he saw into his very core. He recalled shortly how that blonde man even turned his head to his direction when they were parallel to each other. He showed no emotion at the briefest moment, yet the gaze was piercing. He wore a matte black eye gear which covered most of his face, yet the king knew too well that the eyes behind it bore onto him. An unreasonable chill slithered down his spine— ' _Just who was that bastard?'_. He silently cursed. The black slits thinned extremely as his brows met.

* * *

 **MACKENZIE RESIDENCE (IV)**

Sprawling on the bed after a traumatic day, he sighed.

"Waver-chan, a friend of yours from Ireland came to visit you." The old lady knocked gently a few minutes later. He wondered who that could be; he never really had any friends, considering that getting along with people was already a pain.

His Servant began watching an old film, so apparently he didn't hear the notice. "Destroy the enemy, X44!" He screamed at the screen.

He was getting a headache from listening to all the yelling and senseless advice; so lazily getting up, the young man turned the knob, opening the door.

"Ha?" In front was certainly the person he called grandma, but tonight she wore something inappropriate for sleeping. It was already 10 o'clock in the evening; where on earth would she be going?

"Come on, Waver-chan; your friend is waiting for you. He's by the table with your grandfather. Ah, what a handsome man he is." She urged the confused Master to the receiving area, which was in fact the dining room.

As they moved on a snail's pace, he kept on looking at the senior citizen. "Hey, grandma, why are you dressed like that? It's not like you and grandpa are going out at a time like this, right?"

She chuckled. "Are we too old for dates? We only want to spend time under the moonlight like we used to, grandson."

His face contorted at the statement.

From the end of the hallway, he could hear two men conversing.

"I suppose that would be the finest course of action— women do love flowery words."

"Of course it is. That exact tactic had won over my wife's heart." Pounding his fist on the table, the old man remembered his good, old days. "Back in my days, telling how beautiful a woman was would equal to a vow and later on marriage. Words were sincere and taken as proclamations; unlike now that kids these days throw I love you's and relationships as disposable things."

"Yes, I agree with that. In my country, men would duel to the death for a lady's hand. Surrender would mean that his own well-being was prioritized over the sworn love he'd supposedly honor himself with, and such action had the power to scrape off a lifetime's reputation." The visitor gave his share on the matter.

"Oh?! Is that true?"

"Yes. A man must always speak of the truth; treachery will be punishable by death."

There was a short pause. "T-that's really scary, you know. The people from Ireland must be totally honest or skillfully deceitful." The old man laughed nervously, the effort in putting humor in his words intended for a lighter atmosphere.

It was a good thing two figures emerged from the corner of the door.

"Ah, Martha! What took you so long to get Waver?" He immediately turned to the newly arrived individuals and discussed on trivial things.

Having four people in the cozy dining room kindled an anodyne ambiance, setting a good mood for everyone.

Waver forced a small smile, preparing to face the guess; but little did he know that he didn't have to act modestly.

The old couple covered the man all the while, until they moved toward the exit.

"Waver-chan, we'll be out for a while. Take care of the house and be hospitable to Lance-chan, okay?"

Horror filled his body. That man from last night with two Noble Phantasms, that man whose agility could not be beaten by a normal human being— he sat there nonchalantly, wearing teal top and black pants, his presence completely blending in with the house's aura. He gasped in terror as he thought of the reason as to why he was here.

"Please do not worry Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie; I'll make sure that nothing would be damaged in your absence." As if the young Master watched from a television screen and had no control over anything, the affair of sending off the couple was taken care of the enemy. It was an assurance that no one would interfere to what would happen tonight, of course.

Waver followed with trembling limbs. _'I-I can't fight him. Even if Rider is just upstairs, one swift strike on me would k-k—'_

He swallowed hard. He couldn't say it, even in his mind.

The thought made him jolt up and snap out of his daze. "W-wait!" He reached out to the innocent couple, hoping to stall time for Rider to notice that another Servant was about to attack them dishonorably.

But he was too late— the front door closed. With an easy turn, the lock signaled an inescapable consequence.

"Waver Velvet…" He heard his name. The Servant carefully turned to him, eyes sharper than his spears.

Falling on the wooden floor, he squeaked like a mouse. _'I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm so dead.'_

Loud thumps neared him, and his heart felt like exploding any time soon.

* * *

 **A/N: I feel sorry for Waver. Well, after two heavy sections on the OCs' part, I had to change perspective, and he seemed to be the perfect chicken— I mean… guy. Just so you wouldn't be confused on the plot, I followed Fate/Zero's timeline; this chapter is on the point where Rider and Waver discovered Caster's lair (as well as Assassin's survival to Gilgamesh's attack back in the Tohsaka mansion). Please rate and review so I'd know what I'll have to put next time. Thank you for reading! xoxo**


	4. CH 3: Hidden Agenda

**A/N: It took me six months to get back; I'm so sorry. Here is chapter three! Yeah, I know; it's really short. I'm just in the process of reviving my fan girl mode (again), so I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapters. I'M VERY, VERY SORRY. Anyway, I'm back! xoxo**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FATE/ZERO AND ITS CHARACTERS.**

* * *

 **EINZBERN CASTLE (V)**

Birds chirped at the break of dawn. Soft rays passed through shattered glass, illuminating the castle ruins. With the chaos finally subsided, minds were cleared and energy replenished. A promising ambiance enveloped the air; surely, there was what they call the calm after a storm. The last event the walls of the establishment recalled was a tension-filled confrontation between two forces. Kotomine Kirei almost made his way to Emiya Kiritsugu, but due to an abrupt twist of events, the fateful encounter was prevented. Now that counter offenses are set, no one would carelessly assault an opponent directly— which was why words were the only way to make the table turn.

"It's an advantageous treaty, yes?" She beamed after having finished her proposition.

Irisviel contemplated on the girl's actions, on why she would want to collaborate with them instead of the other Masters. "And if we refused?"

She tilted her head, slightly surprised at the question. "Well, I'll have Saber removed from the Holy Grail War right away."

The Caucasian woman kept a straight face. She gracefully poured her second cup of tea. "The alliance seems to be too favorable for Kiritsugu; what will you benefit from this?"

"I'll have more options available in the process, then. You see, I won't be worried about your husband tailing behind me while waiting for a perfect kill— like the last time." The green fairy took a sip before continuing. Her slender fingers were a nice match for the English setting, soft and pleasing to the eyes. "Besides, seeing Saber more often brings me some good memories."

This time, Irisviel was the one who cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"

Ceri kindly smiled. "Can't you tell?"

Warmth began to spread across the small room. From the strained air a while ago, a sense of trust waved past. Irisviel's intuition told her that Lancer's Master was not a despicable character, nor would she mean harm on anyone unless provoked. Of course, in the current situation, she had no choice but to agree— Saber's left hand was still under the curse of Gae Dearg; retorting to fight head on right then and there would be suicidal.

"If we are to ally with one another, what of Saber's hand?" She voiced out.

"No." As plain as that, she responded, still with a smile on her face. "I won't undo what has been done, but I'll definitely compensate for the damage while we're on the same boat."

"Hm?"

As the two females conversed inside, Lancer and Saber stood by the foot of the grand stairs. Debris of the high walls remained by the marble floor, reminding the knight in teal of what happened back then. Replaying it in his mind, he vividly recollected the aircraft's ballistic missiles; everything that got struck turned to ashes. His Master was practically dancing to avoid getting hit to death, while the pilot laughed maniacally, as if enjoying the sight of her in such distress. It angered Lancer, so he cut the massive aerial motor vehicle. It split into three major pieces, each falling like leaves from a branch in autumn. When he looked at the front segment, the aviator was nowhere to be seen. The Servant assumed that he fell to his end, but he didn't have the opportunity to scour the land to confirm it because he rushed to his Master's side. As he sighed in recalling her disappointed gaze, Saber took a step forward, which brought him back to the present.

Finding the composure to talk, he began. "Saber, I truly am sorry for leaving you alone to chase Caster the other night."

She paced about, examining the wreckage. "We almost eliminated him had he not fled. It was a pity to let it pass, but I still think your Master's well-being is more important."

He simply nodded in agreement.

"Which reminds me," She turned to Lancer and locked eyes with him. "Do you know who warned us a second before the missile landed back at the warehouse?"

The spearman shook his head. "I only saw a man in black suit, and my Master mentioned nothing of the incident. Everything was a blur for me after the explosion."

' _Black suit?'_ Her brows creased. She had an image formed in her head, but she didn't pursued asking. Her stare shifted down at the soiled carpet, looking problematic.

A door from the second floor opened. Lancer spun around, waiting for his Master. Saber blinked and glanced at her fellow Servant, noting the abrupt movement and sudden change of expression when the green-haired lady appeared from the corner. He had this certain gleam in his eyes, and the way his mouth curved slightly made her look up. A radiating grandeur greeted her. The petite figure wore a white chiffon dress with its lower edges burnt unevenly; it reached just a few inches above her knee. The wide sleeves puffed up as she swayed her arms freely, and the flip flops made odd sounds as she descended. Her hair fluttered behind while the black tie on her left side kept her looking neatly in front. Saber didn't notice how she gawked at the fairy, and that Irisviel was just behind her. She never had the time to fully look at her until now. The strikingly soft features reminded her of someone, but she couldn't exactly remember the individual. Right from their first encounter, she had an alarming inkling on that Master's identity. Who could she possibly be?

"Let's go for a walk!" She gave her best smile and hassled down.

* * *

 **ABANDONED BUILDING (V)**

"We're a few hours late." The kid mused.

He ran inside the tumbledown establishment, the arms on his side making an up and down motion, mimicking a flying bird. Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the entire place, creating a series of arranged sounds. He circled around a specific place upon reaching the heart of the ground floor, giggling as doing so. His cowboy hat fell, but he didn't mind picking it up— a female figure collected it for him. Dressed in business attire, she readjusted her rectangular eyeglass frame. Everything she wore was in black, and the only things that had color were her hair and eyes. She took a thorough inspection then; tracing the walls and breathing the air inside, her being amalgamated with the quarters. The child watched her in disgust, seeing it as a tedious deed. With his slingshot, he fired a bottle cap at her bottom.

"Cian!" She barked.

He laughed and began running outside. "Catch me if you can!"

As his feet propelled him forward, his heart beat faster, heating up his tiny body. The lady, irritated at the mischief, chased after him with her heels tapping the cement.

When they reached the building's entrance, a man in his early 50's motionlessly stood on his ground, the dourness emanating in a way the two young ones were very familiar with.

"Father…" Catching her breath, she composed herself and curtsied.

Her flowing silver hair brushed gently on her little brother's face. "Hey, don't touch me!" He shoved off the strands, making a sour face.

"Report." The stern-looking man demanded both children, breaking the slack air.

They exchanged looks and faced their father formally. "She left no trace for us to follow— I couldn't draw out her magical energy anymore. This has been the last place where she used it, but there is fragmentation in the air. I… don't know where to start searching, sir." The sister responded.

Without further ado, he waved off his free hand. "Dismissed."

Obedient to the command and given no justice for a longer stay, they ghosted away.

The children's graceful and polite exit was predominated by the old man's presence. Although lovely and august, they remained three levels inferior. The patriarch's stature was that of an ancient pillar— even though withering with age, his character built up and sustained whatever he was holding dear. His ashen hair was swept neatly to the back, the creaseless suit on his wrinkled skin just fitting. A pair of wisdom-filled, grey eyes remained unyielding to the forces against him. He looked up the brightly lit sky, and, with one draw of breath, his stock-still figure came to life.

And there, sitting on top of the front column by the entrance, was another individual. His messy, ash brown hair and chocolate eyes were very warm, although he felt nothing but coldness from his core. The humid wind passed by his face, caressing him as he stared at the empty space above. By the looks of his jaded expression, it seemed that he had been waiting for a long while. His swaying legs were a sign of impatience, and the constant sighing did no good. Once the opportune moment of having a clearing was open, he steadied himself and jumped down. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, feeling no pressure from the recoil at all. The glued gaze he kept at the sky broke, making an even more indifferent gaze at what was ahead of him.

"I'll be on my way…" Passively saying, he took a step toward the direction opposite the old man's position.

After letting him walk seven meters away, the authoritarian man spoke. "How many times have I told you to break ties with her?"

"Around nine times already, I think."

"You stubborn son of mine; you'll be my downfall."

The young lad turned his head, seeing the figure of his father in his peripheral vision, towering and unwavering. "I'll be on my way, father."

He had nothing to say. With his dull eyes trailing off, he sighed and went down the road with nothing particular in mind.

The middle-aged man stood motionlessly in front of the tumbledown building. His voice fell low, the corners of his mouth twisting ever so slightly. "Remember what we came here for…" Like a phantom in the wind, it traveled and echoed throughout the vicinity. He swore the teenaged boy heard it; he may have grinded his teeth in defiance, the man noted.

* * *

 **MACKNENZIE RESIDENCE (V)**

Once again, Rider's booming laugh reverberated through the house walls. His amusement regarding the event last night still hasn't died down.

"Stop laughing, you idiot! He could have killed me back there!" The wimpy Englishman yelled.

Feeling the stomach cramps coming, the Servant tried to suppress his enjoyment while reprimanding his Master. "That's not true, boy. I highly doubt that Lancer's Master would command such a sly thing. You simply took the abrupt visit as an assault."

"But didn't you see the way he looked at me?! He was about to spear me if you showed up a minute later!" He insisted.

"I was already by the stairs when both of you sent your grandfather and grandmother off," The King of Conquerors waved off. "And the expression in Lancer's eyes was not murderous— he had determination in them."

Waver Velvet crossed his arms, refusing to accept the explanation. "Hmph. You're being too easy-going on everyone and everything. "

"Boy, don't be too narrow on interpretations. For a Servant to intentionally expose himself in an enemy lair is no casual walk." Iskandar closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "If Lancer's Master wanted you dead, then she could have torn you into pieces personally."

He gawked at the brawny figure, gulping as he remembered that night at the warehouse and imagined himself being sliced by the green-haired girl.

 _From above, seven points surrounding Berserker beamed simultaneously and began caging him inside. Huge amounts of energy were released from the seals, howling in the dead of the night. The location was perfect— the Master schemed this from the very beginning, planning to take down the enemy Servant where only those involved were to witness. Saber and her Master were standing firm on their ground, clothes and hair fluttering. Waver only gasped in amazement when Lancer's Master struck Berserker on the stomach, but he never expected something well-planned as this. The seven pillars blocked any possible escape routes for the mad Servant. Even if Berserker tried to slash his way out, the damage he'd cause would only return to him. Remaining gravely silent as he held the reins to his chariot, Rider looked over his Master and nodded in the silent understanding they both shared._

 _As Waver's eyes returned to the scene, he caught the girl's strained expression as she dashed to Berserker's position. She was already carrying her Servant's red spear, which was strange because she could have used the golden one to deliver a mortal wound instead. Lancer felt betrayed in the Englishman's observation; what happened in that blink-of-an-eye that Waver Velvet missed?_

" _Master…!" The Servant in teal shouted in alarm._

 _A hiss escaped her lips as she pivoted. Even with all the preparations and ambush against the Dark Servant, she still couldn't hold him down. She took a step back to dodge Berserker's large arm wildly swinging around._

 _Waver subconsciously squeezed on the chariot's edge, his mind racing. 'If they wanted to finish off Berserker, Lancer should have been the one to attack. Why did she even engage in the Servants' battle?! Even if she's… no, she can't kill him; that's just impossible. The barrier is strong, but if she gets wounded or if she loses her grounding, it's over.'_

" _Aah!" The green-haired Master yelped. Berserker was in a frenzy, and Lancer did nothing as his feet were stoned to the ground._

" _What I the world is Lancer doing—" Waver panicked, turning to his Servant, but Rider was already in his bearings._

 _His tensed hand touched the hilt of his sword, readying himself for more turn of events. "They already lost the element of surprise."_

 _The seemingly endless whirls of wind were of no help. The mad Servant was beginning to get immune to the force knocking his body, so he was slowly getting his normal pace back. He didn't attempt to break free from the barrier; rather, he has been trying to destroy the caster. Saber was still beyond the walls, fighting against the strong currents, making her useless in the fight. Rider clicked his tongue, slightly irritated at why Lancer didn't even budge when his Master was in danger. As he was about to charge in, however, he felt a different air rising. His oxen also sensed it as they became unstable. The King of Conquerors paused and watched carefully at the ongoing battle, now confused._

 _Berserker's weapon swung sideways, cutting the empty space where the little lady Master should have been. She bent low enough to miss the huge pole her enemy held. Cold sweat formed on her forehead, but nonetheless she kept her composure. Having missed the opportune moment to release the final strike, she discarded her former schemes. This time, little by little, she inched closer to where Lancer stood frozen, with her enemy's blows a hair strand's breadth away from her face or vital organs. The restricted Servant had no idea what would transpire from it, yet he prepared for the worse to come. If truth be told, he never agreed to have his Master do all the combat; if it weren't for her groundless reasons and the last-minute command spell for him to remain still, he wouldn't be as useless as a rock._

" _Lancer!" It occurred all too quickly._

 _He saw Berserker aiming for his Master's heart while the fairy was tossing the red spear in midair. He saw everything clearly— it happened right before him. A second ago, they were at least five meters away; the next was a fast series of action._

 _Not noticing that the command spell has been lifted, the spearman instinctively evaded the hit directed at his Master and took her place. The girl flung herself to one side, throwing her body in the air as if she were to fly. Of course, she had no wings to soar, but before she would have fallen on the ground, her good foot drove her up again. With the boost she gained from that, she stationed herself on the left side of Berserker, who was then preoccupied with Lancer._

 _They were back to their initial phase, distracting the mad Servant, yet the female Master seemed pleased. Without any suspension, she aimed a shimmering arrow twice the standard size used in siege defenses at the wild Servant. Lancer found time to get surprised, but reacted swiftly on the opening. He let go of Gae Dearg, recalling his Master's strict instruction of her doing the actual damage to their enemies. She was unbelievably reliable in catching the spear; not a second lapsed before she took hold of it, piercing Berserker on the same spot where she hit him with the temporary weapon. Black ooze leaked from the side of his armor as he stiffened and dropped down on his knees. A small splotch stained the green fairy's face, calling attention to her emotionless eyes and timid yet icy curling of her lips._

 _A resounding wail covered the entire warehouse._

Waver Velvet swallowed hard as his brows met. "I don't want to see her again." He felt sick upon recalling the incident.

"Mm… the girl is a stunning magus, as you say. She could project weapons and handle a large scale barrier while learning her enemies' weakness. Honestly, she could be mistaken as a Servant too." Iskandar commended.

The wimp's scowl began to deepen. "That's exactly the problem! She shouldn't be able to do that. I don't know where she came from or how she did that, but it was just impossible for a—"

"—but she did, didn't she, boy?" He interrupted. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that we know the extents of her abilities. You should learn from her; observe the enemy well and use everything you know against him. It's one of the best tactics in war when you're favored with time!"

A loud pat in the back that sounded like thunder made Waver's spine tremble. He glowered at his Servant and met a huge encouraging grin. "We don't have that much time, idiot. Assassin is already eliminated, and Berserker almost died back then. The Holy Grail War is fast-paced; we can't just watch every Master and Servant until we discover their weaknesses."

"So do you imply that we should take action immediately?" Rider pounded his fist on the floor. He let out a disappointed sigh. "If you meant to do just that, then why did you decline the alliance offered by Lancer's Master? We could have accomplished things a lot more speedily."

"I told you that I don't trust her! There's something that I don't like about her." Waver exasperatedly complained. "I don't know. There's something really wrong about that girl…"

* * *

 **MATOU RESIDENCE (V)**

"Kariya…" A scent of rotting meat came from the head of the Matou household. He lingered by the shadows, illuminated only by the dim rays of the moon.

The limping son abruptly stopped, turning to his father as if he'd just been called back to the land of the living. "What do you want, old man?" He barked.

"Follow me. We have something to discuss about."

It was odd for the dying man; usually, when he was being called, he'd only be ridiculed about his incompetency or lectured regarding his brash actions. Tonight, however, Matou Zouken was grim and had an urgent tone to his voice. The dark living room even accented his mood, ill and uninviting. Kariya had no choice but to oblige— the subject matter seemed crucial, and he could barely think clearly to resist his father's order.

"What is it about now?"

For a while, Zouken didn't respond. They passed through the corridors and a few rooms, walking at a snail's pace. When they reached a certain door, he responded. "If you want to keep Sakura alive, you'll have to play by that girl's game…"


End file.
